The Friends I've Made
A Note From Veikko Note: Jussi was one of the three brothers of Leoding Hall. I served in his military unit before I came to Anvil properly for the first time. He was called ‘Fussy Jussi’ so much that it might as well have been his Scop name, for he was always fretting of the wellbeing of others before he would consider himself. Jussi perished in the battle of Ikka's Tears. His connections to the Saker meant that he was given a chance to say goodbye to his Brothers and his Thane through the ritual Whispers Through The Black Gate. It is my understanding that, free of his Ambitions and stood at the Gateway of the Labyrinth of Ages, he was much less burdened with worldly concerns. He told Osric to remember compassion, told Wulfric to keep the ears on his helmet, and told Agnes he could have grown to love her. A Note From Lissa Note: Agnes gave birth at the Winter Solstice in Anvil 381YE and named her son Jussi so his affection was clearly in some measure returned. by Jussi Sigeing Two seasons have passed since I first went to Anvil. When first we went, I was sceptical, and if it hasn’t been at Wulfric and Oscric’s insistence I would have stayed in Wintermark. The beating heart of the Empire, where one day a new Empress will sit upon the throne, where Generals of each Nation meet to plot the coming battles against the Barbarian Orcs, where the keepers of the Way huddle together to discuss matters of religious import. And we, survivors of the Skarsind invasion, what were we to Anvil? What good could we possibly do? I am a Grimnir, not a politician. My time would be better served at home tending to those of ailing health. But Anvil! How wrong I was. Within my first hour of walking around the town, an entirely new malady had been discovered, a swelling of the heart that could not be remedied by any known herb that would ultimately see the organ explode within the chest of the afflicted, killing them instantly. Within two hours, I’d learnt of the remedy. To poison the afflicted! Truly fascinating. Not even a full year, and Anvil has kept me busy and contented. I have been at the Regio when a ritual has gone awry and caused a swelling in the brain of the unfortunate souls that were within the circle, and lacking my surgery kit (I was in line for a ritual myself at the time, else I would have had it on my person) I had to perform the brain surgery with the end of his friend’s short sword. I was quite inebriated at the time, and forgot to inquire as to either soul’s name, so I have no way of finding out whether or not he survived the operation. But of course he did, he was operated on by me. The cultures of the Empire are much richer and more varied than I had ever thought, and I wish to learn more. Did you know that the Brass Coast use oils and massage to heal wounded tissue? If I hadn’t seen it myself, I would have said that it isn’t real healing unless the healer is red with someone else’s blood, but there they are, in the hospital, speaking softly – speaking softly! Like an injured person is a timid animal needs to be gently coaxed back to health! More than once I’ve heard people talk about ‘bedside manner.’ Apparently telling a patient to stop complaining, and the promise that they’ll scar well, isn’t a comfort in some Nations. What a world we live in. I’ve been bloodied up to the elbows preforming surgery on the innards of Imperial Orcs, I’ve walked onto battlefields laden down with more herbs than I could ever grow in a little herb garden, I’ve committed the small band that I command to fight alongside armies that will change the course of Imperial History, I’ve walked astride my Thane, my brothers and my hall against the Orcish Legions, and I can say with great pride that, because of us, many have lived. My Thane’s bellowing voice has carried across the battlefield, inspiring not just our hall, but the Halls of Wintermark, and the soldiers of the other nations, and because of her, many have lived. My brother Osric has, with shield and sword, stood strong in many shield walls against ten endless tide of steel and range, and because of him, many have lived. Wulfric, continuing to master the arcane arts, has mended as many shields as he has felled Barbarians, and because of him, many have lived. My sisters-in-law, Elsa and Elva, have taken to the field many a time with blade in hand and determination in their eyes, and because of their prowess, many have lived. Ingrid, my other sister-in-law, has fed us hearty meals (‘a hungry warrior is a warrior unfit for battle’), her gravlax remaining a favourite for our Hall, and because of that gravlax, many have lived. And with great pride I can say that, my hands sore from the thorns of herbs, my bandage-bandolier empty save for a final strip of gauze, my healing magics depleted, my arms aching from carrying armed soldiers out of harm’s way, the breath taken from my lungs from sprinting to the dying and bringing them back from the gates of the Labyrinth – I am but a facet of Sigehold, a Grimnir under our banner, but because of us, many have lived! What a thing it is to be alive, too. Dare I say, I think I have friends back in Anvil, and the friends I have made I look forwards to seeing again. Fredda Alvinsdottir of Sherard Hall, who holds the prestigious position of Head Grimnir of Wintermark – she was so welcoming to me when I first arrived! Theo of the Hunters of the Mark, who stirred me out of near-death on the battlefield, I certainly owe a horn of mead or two. But none of them come close to Agnes. Agnes Everywhere, the Little Mother, of the Saker. A Draughir as cold as winter’s bite, and yet I see so much of myself in her. She’s hardened to the groaning of the ailed as much as I am. We have performed surgery together, and laughed when a spurt of arterial blood has sprayed us both. We very nearly interrupted a Navarri funeral together, because we needed a blood sample from the deceased to find a way to cure what had killed them. She is dear to me, a smiling face I cannot wait to see every time I go to Anvil, a companion that complements me all too well. By which I mean friendship. I don’t have the time to marry. Wintermark are far too busy throwing themselves into deadlier and deadlier situations, all a wedding would do would stop me being where I am needed and probably cause a handful of eager warriors to wander straight from the battlefield and into the Labyrinth. Besides, there would be no benefit to it. Dead Mikko is already as strong a connection to the Saker as Sigehold needs. At least Osric supports me in this, even if it’s just because he wants to delay my marriage so as to further delay his own. Regardless of all that, there is work yet to be done, and I am far off topic. My name is Jussi Sigeing, and let this be forward of what I hope to be a volume that better details the effects of the Assassin's Gate poisons, documenting more information as I find it, and ultimately culminate in my discovering a cure for each poison. When I am successful, I hope this book to be printed and kept in pride of place in the hospital at Anvil.